


Winter is Colder than I Imagined

by lighthouse_at_sea



Category: Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson, 楽しいムーミン一家 | Moomin (Anime 1990)
Genre: Father son bonding time, Fluff and Angst, Invisible Snusmumriken | Snufkin, M/M, but for snufkin, winter in moominvalley
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-16
Updated: 2019-05-22
Packaged: 2020-03-06 05:09:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18844285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lighthouse_at_sea/pseuds/lighthouse_at_sea
Summary: Snufkin had wanted to stay, he truly had. This winter was supposed to be different.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I swear it was not supposed to get this sad this fast
> 
> cw - emotional outbreaks

_"Snufkin, you mean it?!"_

_Snufkin smiled shyly. "Yes, Moomin. I want to spend the winter with you."_

_Moomin lit up in absolute joy, his bright blue eyes seemingly brighter. He grabbed Snufkin's hands and squeezed them tightly, looking down at their entwined appendages then back up to Snufkin. In return, Snufkin gingerly pressed his nose to Moomin's, who blushed furiously. Snufkin let out a small, giddy laugh, his heart clenching. This was all so new._

_Moomin pulled away from the kiss and took a step away. Snufkin's hands fell to his side and he watched as Moomin's blush faded and his expression turned more serious._

_"You know you don't have to do this, right? You need your winter travels and even though we're… together now… you know I'd never expect you to give up anything?"_

_Snufkin's tail whipped back and forth in embarrassment and agitation and so much love. Yes, he knew, but it was always reassuring when said plainly and aloud._

_"I know. Thank you. It means a lot that you do not resent me when I have to leave."_

_"I'd never!"_

_Snufkin smiled. "This year, I feel different. This doesn't mean that I will want to stay next year or even any other year, but for this one, Moomin, I want to be here."_

With you.

_But that last part was left unsaid._

* * *

He was crying. Fat tears leaked down his face and his throat burned. Snot and tears dripped and soaked into his scarf that he had smothered his face against and his shoulders shook and heaved.

He wasn't sure how long it had been, but when he finally calmed down into nothing more than quiet sobs, he ached all over and his scarf was soiled.

Pulling his head up and away from the tight ball he had curled himself into, the pale, watery light stung at his eyes. Sitting up and rubbing the last of the tears away from his eyes, he tiredly looked around. Most of the furniture of the Moominhouse was still covered except for the pieces that he used regularly, as he was the house's only inhabitant that wasn't fast asleep. He avoided looking at his tent, set up amidst the sea of white sheets.

He slowly got off the couch and padded into the kitchen, hands wrapped around himself. Shakily, he started to heat up some stew on the stove. Cooking with a full set of pots and pans and _measuring cups_ was a novelty, one that he surprisingly enjoyed, but it made him feel so… domestic.

What would happen if he and Moomin stayed together? Of course he dearly hoped that they would, but how would it work? Would he live in a tent in his husband's backyard? That would be ridiculous, right? But Moomin wouldn't mind if that's what he chose. He didn’t mind his odd friend camping twenty feet from his front door every season. But that was when they were friends. A relationship meant it would be different. At least eventually. Moomin would expect him to settle down at some point; he couldn’t be a wanderer forever.

He yanked the lukewarm pot off the stove and turned off the heat. He wasn't very hungry.

* * *

The last days of fall had been so wonderful. He and Moomin had sat and talked or rushed about with their friends. And on the first day of winter when Moomin had settled in for hibernation, Snufkin joined in on the pre-hibernation feast and come bedtime, was pressed right up against his other, falling asleep to the gentle rise and fall of Moomin's breath. Mumriks didn't take too kindly to hibernation, which he knew, but that first night of sleep had been the most peaceful in ages.

And when he woke up, he was happy. It was quiet and peaceful without the usual inhabitants and it was as if he were alone, with enough people still awake that he could seek out company if he so chose. He had spent his first three weeks taking in the novelty of Moominvalley in the winter. He helped Too-Ticky move into the bathhouse while the Mymble's daughter and Little My settled in for their own hibernation. He sat on the cliffs by the sea for hours, watching the waves crash against the shore. And when the sea froze over, he learned that ice-fishing could be just as peaceful as fishing in a summer brook. 

And every night, he curled up under the covers next to Moomin, whose heat radiated against his skin and made the blankets warm enough to mimic the southern sun.

When one month faded into two, Snufkin nervously found that exploring the winter scenery became less of a thrill. Flat notes filled his compositions until he lost the will to play altogether. His tail came and went and his hands were often translucent by time he sunk back into bed for a few hours of respite. Waking up in the same room brought jagged gasps of air into his lungs, and only Moomin's presence, still so inviting and calming even when unconscious made him slow down enough to reign himself in just to start the whole process over again.

When he had even been so lucky as to receive a weak, tired hug from the troll, his name on Moomin's lips as the troll blinked at him blearily, even just to fall asleep between one minute and the next, he found his willpower restored. Staying here in Moominvalley was for himself just as much as it was for Moomin. This was his choice to be here. Being with Moomin was what he wanted, and he could show Moomin that he could do this. Even though the sentiment was quite a way off from his original burning desire to stay by Moomin's side.

He slept peacefully for two nights.

But by the third, the same trapped feelings were back, freezing him to the core as effectively as the Groke, until even the nights next to Moomin left him worn out by the next morning.

He prowled the valley, stayed out too long until his hands were numb and his face sported cuts from the icy winds.

He slept in a different place in the Moominhouse every night for a week.

The night previous, he had gone so far as to set up his abandoned tent, the canvas stiff with disuse, right there on the living room floor. That night, huddled in his own blanket, staring up at the faded green material, it was almost like he was somewhere else. Somewhere new and different and filled with things to see. The temperature was right for the south, but there was no breeze, no crackling of leaves or small creatures rustling and scampering between them. He bit his lip and squeezed his eyes shut.

And when he finally had fallen asleep, waking up and stepping out to walls pressed against him had been the end of it.

* * *

He stared into the pot of stew, his eyes welling up once more. He moved to wipe his tears away when he had to pause. His hands were gone.

Helplessness and fear surged through him. But he couldn't do anything here. Calmly, he walked out of the kitchen, out of the house and through the path of snow ten feet tall leading cleared by his daily wanderings. He made it across the bridge and marched into the forest.

In the woods, he screamed. He yanked his hat over his eyes and his invisible fingers curled into the fabric.

He couldn't do it. He couldn't even last half the winter. He would never be able to make the same sacrifices as the ones Moomin made every year. Moomin would always be the one who got the short end of the stick, forced to wait, forced to be the one who lost more than he gained, doomed to have an empty bed most nights while still professing that Snufkin didn't need to change one hair on his head.

It wasn't fair!

Snufkin sat at the base of a tree and stared up through the sparse branches to the stormy grey sky above. It was bitterly cold. Not the weather for a mumrik. When he couldn't take it anymore, he put his invisible hands into his disappearing pockets and trudged back to the house. It started to snow. He wrapped his coat closer.

In the house, he scrubbed his face. He washed his scarf carefully in the sink and hung it to dry.

He then went about packing his tent. It joined the rest of his earthly possessions in his pack.

Shucking off his coat and neatly folding it up on the sofa with his hat placed on top, he walked up the three flights of stairs and into Moomin's room, where the troll was still asleep, as expected. Snufkin carefully climbed into the bed and maneuvered himself under the covers and up against Moomin, pressing in as closely as possible, hugging his friend as tightly as he could without accidentally digging his claws past the fluffier-than-usual coat of fur.

"I'm sorry, Moomin. I couldn't do it."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I did end up continuing. Enjoy!

Snufkin sighed into Moomin's fur coat. The weight of Moomin in his arms and the furs tickling his face would be perfect if not for the turmoil within him. His eyes focused upwards to Moomin's sleeping face, softened and unworried. It would be okay. Moomin was fast asleep, he wouldn't even notice Snufkin was gone. 

Pulling away was easier than it should have been. After a moment of shuffling, he was sitting on the side of the bed, Moomin still oblivious to the world. On the other side of the closed the door, he leaned against the frame, blinking the tears out of his eyes.

He wrote his apology on a piece of paper from Moominpappa's study. Surely one sheet wouldn't be missed. And above all, he stated that he would be back come spring. He couldn't bear to leave room for Moomin to doubt that he would return, his decision to leave had him feeling guilty enough. Snufkin placed the note in the middle of the dining room table, fiddling for a bit which direction he wanted to center it if only to let his mind focus on something inconsequential.

Once he lined it up properly, Snufkin made quick work of tidying the house. The sheets once more covered the furniture, the kitchen was freshly swept, and his uneaten stew was packed away. It was as if no one had stepped foot in moominhouse since the last day of autumn.

He exited the warmth of the house with a heavy heart, but the storm outside was a more welcome challenge than trying to figure out what was so wrong with him inside that he couldn't even do this one thing.

* * *

Physically, the trek away from the valley was nothing short of torture for the mumrik. He had never travelled for so long in these conditions and the cold seeping into his bones tired him out faster than anything. His boots crunched in the ice and one hand constantly gripped the brim of his hat to prevent the wind sweeping it away. The snow melted on his feverish skin, soaking into his clothes while the wind buffeted him every which way. He hadn't gone for more than an hour when he concluded that if he didn't stop, he'd surely catch his death. Snufkin set up camp as close as possible to a grove of thick coniferous trees, providing him at least some protection from the wind.

Once the fire was crackling, he shrugged off his heavy coat to dry, and moved close enough to the fire to compensate for the loss that his face would be pink for days. He watched with muted interest as he observed the fire through his nonexistent hands. He knew it took time for this particular ailment to fade, so he sighed and got to work heating up a bowl of stew.

To his relief, he could travel further each day as the snows died down with each step away from Moominvalley.

When he made it to the land full of ponds and creeks, his spirits soared. From this point onward, the weather didn't like to get any colder than a brisk autumn day. He pitched up his tent and set out to fish. Looking into the river, he saw that his face was gone, just the hat floating above his clothes. When had that happened?

After a moment of contemplation, he gave up and brought himself back to the present. He cast out his line. The scenery of the shore was interesting in the calming, passive way he liked best on days like these. Beetles and dragonflies and even a few stray hattifattener boats. Six fish ended in his bucket by time the sun began to set.

Heading back to him campsite, he almost dropped the pail when he found a man lounging on the grass a few feet from his tent.

"Mind sharing?"

Snufkin's hackles rose at the playful voice and he watched motionless as a man tilted his hat up, staring at him with feline blue eyes.

"I'm The Joxter. It seems it's getting dark."

Snufkin scowled and bit his lip. This would be Teety-Woo all over again.

"Fine."

Joxter grinned. "Much obliged."

"Okay."

The man laid back down and placed the hat back over his eyes. Snufkin frowned. "You know, if you're going to eat my dinner, you could at least get some firewood."

"Oh, you're going to cook them?" Joxter face peaked out with a wide grin.

Snufkin paused and opened his mouth then closed it again.

"Hey, you're right, say no more. It's the least I can do." Then the man hopped up and disappeared into the trees. Snufkin watched him go. Sighing for the tenth time that day, he took out his knife and began to remove the scales. Joxter came back with a handful of wood and quickly made the fire. Snufkin was vaguely impressed with the pace and skill that Joxter displayed. Obviously, the man ate more than raw fish.

Snufkin set up the fish on thin sticks and rested them along the biggest log to cook.

Joxter's eyes reflected the fire well, making them glow bright red. The man eagerly accepted the fish that was handed to him and dug in.

"So what's your story?" He said around bites.

Snufkin scowled. Not that Joxter could see him. He had been quick to forget his predicament. 

"Whoops, probably too personal. Okay, I'll do the talking then, I don't mind."

Then the man launched into a tale where he had convinced a duke that he was also a duke, but then was found out and had then been chased out of the castle when he had forgone the dessert spoon to simply pick up the tart with his bare hands. "It seemed like a finger food, you know?"

Snufkin listened carefully. When there was a break, he finally made to speak. "My name is Snufkin."

"Great to meet you, Snufkin! And really, thank you for the fish. I can catch you some tomorrow morning to make up for your hospitality."

Snufkin was hesitant to agree to see the man again in the morning, but his company hadn't been so bad. His tent had certainly garnered ruder and more demanding visitors. He nodded, the bob of his hat easily seen by Joxter.

When the fire was down to the embers, Joxter excused himself. "I'll be in that tree over there if you need me. See you in the morning."

Snufkin murmured a goodbye then went to bed himself.

In the morning, he woke to six fish in his pail and Joxter in the tree, fast asleep. He smiled and got to work cooking them up for breakfast and then dismantled his tent to be on his way once more.

"Wait! Snufkin!"

Snufkin turned to see Joxter hopping down from the branches and paused.

"I'm sorry. I just… It's been a while since I had any company. There used to be parties every night in this area, but not so much this season. Can I stick with you for a bit?"

Snufkin watched as the mumrik (well, that was his assumption) shuffled around. Oh, he hoped he didn't regret this.

"I suppose. But only for a while."

Joxter agreed to the terms without complaint and fell into step with Snufkin. Snufkin did enjoy meeting new people, and for all of Joxter's stories, the man also seemed to know when his quiet was more appreciated. He also didn't pry. The man knew little more than his name, but that seemed to be enough.

Snufkin played his harmonica and settled into the feeling of walking for hours on end without the cold or worrying about if he was being accommodating enough to his companion, one of his many fears for what would happen if he allowed Moomin to come with him. Moomin… There was still a gaping hole in his chest where his worries about Moomin festered, but there was nothing he could think of to calm that storm.

He shoved those thoughts aside.

Joxter talked about his life in sweeping motions. The man had a wanderlust to match Snufkin's own, although he had a bit more of a propensity to be in the presence of people. He talked about going far south and west, friends and more than a handful of enemies. The man apparently had the goal to take down any sign he saw, regardless of if he could read it or not.

"It's about the principle, Snufkin."

In turn, Snufkin told his own tale of chasing away a park keeper with hattifatteners and tearing up the signs. Joxter was in stitches, but when Snufkin got to the part about taking on a dozen or so woodie children, his companion went silent.

"I knew a woman once with a handful of kids. She was remarkable… But I had to leave."

Snufkin's heart clenched. Did he really have the strength to listen to a story that would come so close to his own troubles? And this one didn't exactly sound like it had a happy ending. His penchant for being quiet made the decision for him as Joxter continued.

"Staying in one place, all those kids… They started to call me 'dad.' I couldn't be that for them. And Mymble… I see her every now and again. She's happy, she doesn't need me in her life again."

Snufkin looked down. Why he was about to share anything with a man he met two days ago, he didn't know, but the words were out before he knew it. "I may have the same problem…"

"Want to talk about it?"

_No…_ "There's this troll, Moomin… I love him, but I can't stay in one place forever. I thought I could… but I was mistaken."

Joxter fiddled with his whiskers. "Yes, I can see how we're similar in that way. And he doesn't like when you must leave?"

Snufkin must just want to make himself feel worse, because why else would he still be talking?

"No… He allows it, over the years he's come to accept it. But this year, I wanted to try and stay. To show him that I could do it. That he was enough to make me want to stay. Now he's going to know that he'll never be enough."

"Hey now, no one should take precedence over your own desires. Have you two talked about a compromise?"

"I… Well I stay in Moominvalley from spring to fall…"

"Why, that's three quarters of the year! Snufkin, if your boy doesn't think that that's compromise enough, then he doesn't deserve you!"

"I live in a tent in front of his house."

Joxter guffawed. "Everyone should be entitled to their own space. I slept in the Mymble's orchards most nights. And that just made the nights together even more special."

Snufkin coughed and looked away.

"Ahem. Maybe that was too much. But you see, not every couple works the same. You can propose with a button and sleep in his orchard and as long as you two love each other, then it will be enough. You just need to talk about these things."

Joxter's words came far from fixing everything, but Snufkin was surprised at how much they helped sooth the ache. And really, Snufkin knew the same things himself. Maybe the winter had messed with his head more than he would care to admit. Moomin cared for him, they would work it out. But that wouldn't be for a few weeks. Until then, he needed to take care of himself otherwise he would need more time before going back in the spring.

"Thank you for your insight, Joxter," Snufkin stated.

Joxter brushed not-so-imaginary dust off his shoulder. "We vagabonds are just naturally wise."

"You know, all that you told me. The same can go for you and the Mymble."

Joxter closed off. "Now that's a whole different story. I left her in the middle of the night years ago without so much as a goodbye. And she's got other men to dote on her. And I couldn't be a father."

"Well then as a friend. Surely she could stand you enough for that?"

"Maybe you're right, Snufkin." But Snufkin didn't think the mumrik agreed. Neither said more.

* * *

They only traveled together for another two days. When they came across a small field of tents, the inhabitants dancing and drinking merrily about several small bonfires, Joxter decided that he could be happy there.

Snufkin wished him the best of luck, and Joxter paid him the same in turn.

"I hope I'll see you around again, Snufkin. All of you, I might add. Maybe I'll stop by that Moominvalley to see you and your boy. You know, I knew a Moomin when I was your age. I'll pay him a visit too."

Snufkin thanked him and assured him that Moominmamma and Moominpappa would gladly welcome old friend or stranger alike into their home.

They parted ways and Snufkin easily adjusted to be in only the presence of himself once again.

The following three weeks were some of the calmest he'd had on his winter journeys. Some years he'd seek out adventure and new people and sights (more often than not to have something exciting to regale Moomin with) but this year he was happy to just relax. All he felt like doing was fishing and composing and picking wild mushrooms to stew over a warm fire.

He found himself playing harmonica for a group of forest creatures on some nights, the fast-paced melodies causing them to swing their partners around in utter glee and love. He loved when his music could cause such happiness. And when he slowed down his music to spring ballads, they eventually broke apart for the night, leaving him a pile of sweet berries in payment.

Sleeping under the stars, a new forest above his head each night, he felt far apart from the mumrik who was ready to claw down the wallpaper in Moominmamma's kitchen by the end of his stay. Moomin would understand, he had to. But maybe he wouldn't go into just as much detail into how he felt staying. Moomin would only assume it was his fault.

The weeks passed, and before he knew it, it was time to head back to Moominvalley. He didn't feel particularly ready to have the conversation with Moomin that had been on his mind since his talk with the Joxter, but he had the whole trip back to prepare. He needed to make sure the troll knew what he was getting in to; no more false hopes, beacuse Snufkin couldn't stand the idea of disappointing him again. He just needed to talk with Moomin, then everything would be alright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this chapter was a bit less angsty. I have the next chapter planned, which will most likely be the end of the story.
> 
> I love comments!!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter, I had a super fun time writing this!

The air became colder once more as Snufkin left the sunny southern planes on his journey back north. He decided that he had had a good winter, if shorter than he was used to. His return trip had given him enough adventures to regale Moomin with, which also gave him the added benefit of keeping his mind off Moominvalley and what would happen when he got there. The distractions never lasted long though, as with every step, he got closer to the destination he returned to time and time again, and he got closer to Moomin.

Besides a run-in with a few fire-breathing toads that reduced his small pot to scrap metal, the last few days of walking were calm. Winter was gone from the air by time he was embraced by the familiar woods leading into the valley, yet nature was still in that careful in-between before spring truly started. He pulled out his harmonica, ready to sit on the bridge and see Moomin running. It was a sight he could never get tired of.

Moominhouse came into view and his heart picked up. Moomin was in there. Maybe he was even still asleep, he was early enough for that to be a possibility. For one wild moment, Snufkin thought how easy it would be to lie. To go in and be waiting when Moomin woke up.

But he couldn't do that, his entire being rebelled against the idea of lying to Moomin so cruelly just to make it easier on himself.

At the foot of the bridge, he gripped a post to steel himself and then made his way to his usual spot. Pulling his harmonica to his lips, he stared at Moomin's window. He began to play.

A few stanzas filled the air and Snufkin became lost in the music for a few calming seconds. Playing always calmed him down. And then there was Moomin, face popping out from his window. The troll waved enthusiastically and stumbled down the ladder in a rush. Snufkin was always worried that his friend would slip, but Moomin had been using that ladder for years and navigated his way down with ease.

Sliding off the veranda, Moomin bounded over. Snufkin sucked in a breath and kept playing. It would fine, Moomin would understand. It was going to be okay. There would be more easy adventures and walks through the woods and fishing on the bridge and Moomin would lean up against him as they stared into a campfire, stars overhead.

Snufkin managed to play a handful more notes until Moomin rushed up, eyes sparkling. Snufkin slipped the harmonica into his pocket.

Moomin leaned in, arms slightly open in invitation if Snufkin wanted a hug, but not pressing. Snufkin earned a gasp in surprise by falling into the open arms, pressing in tightly.

"Snufkin!" Moomin said in dazed happiness.

"Moomin…"

Snufkin sighed, digging his face into Moomin's soft fur. This was all he wanted. Moomin wrapped his arms around him in return and they didn't speak more until Snufkin pulled away.

When he did, Moomin raised his hand to Snufkin's face, scanning it in concern. "You've gone invisible… Did something happen?"

Right. That. He had hoped that it would fix itself, but he had come to realize as the weeks passed with no change, that his soul would only stop aching when it was heard, and that meant telling Moomin what had to be said.

"Moomin, I still have to set up my tent. Care to join me?"

"Of course."

Snufkin picked up his bag and they walked to his usual spot.

Moomin talked about plans for the coming season. Snufkin noticed how he avoided talking about the past winter. Obviously Moomin had figured out that he had left. Snufkin set up his tent and Moomin collected rocks and branches for his firepit. When they were done and had sat down together on opposite sides of the firepit, Snufkin curled himself in a bit, fiddling with his tail.

"Snufkin, it's okay that you had to leave."

Snufkin looked up, meeting Moomin's eyes even if his friend couldn't tell. Now was his chance. "Thank you, and I'm sorry Moomin. And as long as I can remember since before I came to Moominvalley, I've travelled and never looked back. I couldn't stand being in a place for longer than a few weeks. But here, three seasons don't feel so bad, and I think in part that it's because I share those months with you."

Moomin kept staring at him and Snufkin directed his gaze a bit to the left, shifting in discomfort at the force of the gaze.

"But I still have the call to travel, and I can't give up that side of me. I tried to stay, but it was too much."

Moomin's eyes widened in shock and hurt. Snufkin felt tears pricking at his eyes. This was it, Moomin was upset he couldn't do this one thing for him."

"Snufkin, I'm so sorry. I'll never ask for you to stay again. Is that why you're invisible like this, I swear, I'd never have asked!"

Snufkin was overwhelmed with how warm that statement made him, but Moomin's voice cracked and he looked so devastated for what he hadn't forced Snufkin to do.

"Moomin, I had truly wanted to stay. You didn't force me to do anything. But because of that… Moomin, if we stay together, and I want to, don't ever think otherwise, I can't change parts of myself like that. I won't be able to give you the same relationship your parents have or the one you had with Snorkmaiden."

"That doesn't matter, Snufkin. I just want you," Moomin said in earnest to Snufkin's immense embarrassment.

"I'll never be able to stay all winter," Snufkin challenged.

"I was asleep all winter and couldn't even tell you were gone, just like you've told me every time but I wouldn't listen. Plus, seeing you on the bridge is my favorite thing ever. Makes it feel like you're the one bringing spring here to Moominvalley every time you play your harmonica."

Snufkin barked out a laugh and buried his face in his hands in love for Moomin. Ahh how he hoped that he never did anything to ruin this.

He looked up again, this time at Moomin's hands, sobering once more for the other thing he was most worried about telling Moomin. He said it quick and tonelessly.

"I don't want to live together."

Moomin pulled back in confusion and some hurt at that one. "What do you mean?"

"Well. You sometimes talk about building a house, and while I wouldn't mind living with you occasionally, I don't do well in houses for long stretches of time and I feel much more comfortable in my tent."

"Oh! Snufkin, you can live in a tent in the woods for the rest of your life and I'd still love you. As long as you let me make you pancakes some mornings and I can visit you and we can fish together and -"

Snufkin's tail straightened up and invisible or not, he was blushing. "Moomin, you put up with too much."

"Nonsense! You spent every day that I'm awake here in Moominvalley. _You_ have to put up with _me_!"

Snufkin stared in amazement then relaxed into an easy smile. "Well that's easy because I love you."

Now it was Moomin's turn to blush profusely.

"I love you too, you know," Moomin squeaked out.

Snufkin laughed and smiled. He then stood up and reached his hand out for Moomin to take. Moomin grabbed on and when he stood up, he wrapped his tail up with Snufkin's own.

"Thank you for understanding, Moomin," Snufkin murmured.

"Of course. You can always tell me if something is bothering you, Snufkin. We'll work it out."

"You know, a man on my travels told me the same thing."

"Oh, tell me all about what happened! What else happened?"

Snufkin grabbed his fishing rod and the two went over to the riverbank as Snufkin started his story. And as Snufkin cast his line down and stared at the lazy current, he saw himself, his full self, with Moomin pressed right up against him. The reflection of Moomin's eyes caught his own and Snufkin smiled, tightening his hold on Moomin's hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading! I hope it was a satisfying ending.
> 
> Also, as some people were wondering about Snufkin and Joxter, I have a sequel in the planning stages to cover that part of the story. So look out for that!
> 
> Kudos and comments make me Thrive <3

**Author's Note:**

> I might write more!! And I do like happy endings, so I won't just leave poor Snufkin like this.
> 
> I love comments! <3


End file.
